Hatikvah
by jungleanimal
Summary: Written during the unrest in Israel several months ago. This is what I imagine Ziva's reaction would be. Tony and Ziva friendship


__**A/N: I wrote this months ago, when everything was happening in Israel. I didn't feel comfortable posting it until recently. I was surprised they didn't mention it on the show (until I remembered it was filmed before it aired), but I felt that it was important to show Ziva's perspective, or at least what I imagine it to be.  
The title for this story, _Hatikvah_, literally means "the hope" and is the name of Israel's national anthem. I use a little bit of Hebrew, but it's all translated at the bottom. Enjoy :)**

"Late again, David," Gibbs' voice rings out through the bullpen for the third time that week.

"Sorry, Gibbs," she mutters as she drops into her seat. If she can just make it through today, she tells herself, then tomorrow is Friday, so really it's almost the weekend-

Something out of the corner of her eye catches her attention. She jerks her head up and her grip on her pencil tightens instinctively. As soon as she recognizes the hard blue eyes of her boss no more than a few inches from hers, however, her body visibly relaxes.

"Do not apologize," he says so quietly she can barely hear him, "it is a sign of weakness."

She gives a quick nod. He narrows his eyes at her, sensing that something is wrong. She seems on edge. Paranoid, even. Sitting back down at his own desk, he takes the opportunity to watch Ziva from afar.

The mere fact that she is not aware of him staring at her is the first clue that something is wrong. She is distracted—and not in the sense that she has a lot going on, but more like she is preoccupied with something. Normally, he would condemn such behavior. This time, however, his gut tells him it's different.

And just as he is about to call her over, Tony walks up to her. After a brief moment of consideration, Gibbs decides to let DiNozzo try to break down the wall she built. Out of respect for his team, he announces that he has to talk to Ducky about something and makes his way down to autopsy.

Tony, meanwhile, finds enough room on Ziva's desk for his butt and makes use of it. Ziva closes her eyes for a long moment before opening them and, still staring at nothing, mumbles nearly incoherently, "Not now, Tony."

"Ziva-"

"Tony, I'm not in the mood."

"Ziva," he says slowly, "I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

Slightly surprised by her partner's empathy, Ziva raises her gaze and searches his face for any sign of understanding.

Because really, all she wants is for someone to tell her that it's all going to be okay.

She's tired of everyone asking what's wrong, telling her she looks like hell, demanding to know what her problem is. All she wants is someone to know how she feels, to acknowledge that the only things she can think are the same worries over and over and over again. And she wants someone to tell her—no, convince her—that it's all going to be okay.

But the world is not perfect, and it's _not_ all going to be okay. She knows that she just needs accept the truth of what is happening instead of hoping, like a child, that it will all work out in the end.

She looks back down at her hands and balls them into fists, willing them to stop shaking.

All at once, Tony notices her pale complexion, her bloodshot eyes, her unusually thin frame.

"Zee, when's the last time you slept?" He asks softly enough to ensure that McGee can't overhear.

Instead of the backlash of hurtful words he was expecting, all he gets in response is a small shrug.

And for some reason, he can't say he's surprised.

Sliding down from his perch on her desk, he sinks to his knees in front of her so he is in her line of sight. Lacking the energy to avert her gaze, Ziva simply shuts her eyes.

"You have to talk to us, Ziva. You have to talk to someone. I want to help you, I really do, but I can't unless you talk to me. Or do you want me to get Gibbs? Or Ducky? Or Abby?"

No response.

"Don't tell me you want McGee," he tries, but doesn't even get a whisper of a smile. He sighs and stands. "I hope you'll talk to me, Ziva. I just want to help you. We all do."

He turns his back and, in an instant, everything changes.

Red lights flash, sirens blare. The sound of chairs scraping against the floor nearly cover up a woman's voice reporting over the loudspeaker, _"There has been a fire reported in the building. Do not use the elevators. Please walk out in an orderly fashion." _

_Damn,_ Tony curses mentally, _totally forgot about the drill today. _

McGee raises his eyebrows as he buzzes by. Tony turns around to escort Ziva out, but-

Where did she go?

She was right there a moment ago. Sure, he likes to joke about her super-ninja powers, but even she couldn't have passed him that quickly. Spinning around in one, two, three full circles, he searches the room for any sign of her, but she is nowhere to be found. Dozens of people complain loudly as they crowd around the stairs, a few agents are still grabbing things from out of their desks, but Ziva isn't there. He sees the pencil she was holding now by her computer, the (still blank) paper she was working on at the edge of her desk, the shoes she was wearing under her desk—

Wait a moment. It can't be—why would she? But they are unmistakably there. Taking tentative steps, he goes around to the other side of her desk and crouches down.

And there she is, curled up in a ball under her desk, shaking, rocking back and forth, tears streaming down her face.

Tony is certain that had Ducky been there, he would have diagnosed a panic attack.

And suddenly it all makes sense.

Without a word, Tony shoves his body into the small empty space next to Ziva. He wraps his arms around her—an act that would certainly get him kicked where it hurts most had circumstances been different—and holds her tightly. Her breaths are quick and shallow; he whispers "shhh" in her ear in a desperate attempt to calm her down. He pulls her close and she begins to cry into his shoulder, still shaking uncontrollably.

Neither of them know how long they sit like that for. The sound of the fire alarm blaring and the nasally voice of the announcement seem to fade into the background as the two agents sit side by side, intimately close, loving each other immensely.

Many minutes pass and though shivers still occasionally assault her body, Tony finds her calmed down enough to speak. "I can't imagine what you're going through right now."

Another sob runs its course before she responds hoarsely, "I thought—"

"Shh. I know. I know," he whispers, because he does. He does know that the current situation in Israel is eating her alive. He does know that not knowing the fate of her friends and family is the worst kind of torture either of them could imagine.

And he does know that the loud, echoing siren of the fire alarm a little too closely mimicked the noise the sirens in Israel make when it's time to find a bomb shelter.

"It's my home, Tony," she sniffs. "I may live here now, but _eretz Yisrael*_ is and will always be where my heart is. And being here, and knowing what's happening—and at the same time, not knowing—I can't do it, Tony. I don't know what to do. I just wanted to be back there so badly that when the sirens went off...I suddenly was. And I got scared, Tony, and I had to hide."

And as much as he wants to help, he doesn't know what to say. Ziva's smart and mature; she would see through any superficial comfort he has to give. So he remains silent and pulls her closer until she speaks up again. "I was going to the _shuk**_ in Tel Aviv with my sister Tali the day she died. It was a Friday afternoon, and we were shopping for Shabbat dinner. It was like any other week, when all of a sudden we heard the sirens. It definitely wasn't the first time we had heard them, but it was so crowded there because everyone else was trying to buy food before sundown and—and she didn't make it to the bomb shelter." A stray tear rolls down her cheek. "I lost her in the crowd, and she didn't make it."

"I'm so sorry, Ziva."

"Did you know that there are some bomb shelters shaped like caterpillars?" She continues as though he had never spoken. "They make them fun shapes so kids will want to come inside."

Now it's Tony's turn to shudder. "It's so sad that they have to do that."

"It's disgusting," she all but spits. "People are attacking my home and I'm sitting here doing—doing what? Hiding under a desk in the middle of a fire drill? I'm weak. It's pathetic."

"You're not weak," he says suddenly and with so much force it scares her. He takes a deep breath to calm himself down before continuing, "You are so strong. You've been through so much more than any of us can ever imagine, and you handle it with dignity. And you're making a difference _here_. I know that Israel is where you grew up and nothing can change that, but now you are here and you are helping people. Don't ever tell yourself you are weak; you are the strongest person I know."

She wipes away tears, but more still fall. Her voice shakes as she speaks. "I just keep hearing stories of more and more bombs and missiles and rockets being fired at my home and I just..I feel as if I would be able to do more, to help more, if I was there. I know that support from people in the diaspora is just as important as those helping in Israel, but Ifeel as though _I_ need to be there. I'm losing hope, Tony. And hope is all I have right now."

"It's hard to stay hopeful when such horrible things are happening. But you have to remember that Israel is a strong country and has perservered through a lot. You have to remember the...the tivka."

A small smile appears on her lips. "I think you mean _haTikvah,_ Tony."

He grins back, happy to see her spirits lift, however slightly. "Yeah, that's it. The anthem, right? It means the hope?"

She wipes away the last of her tears and nods. "Yes. _Our hope is not yet lost, the hope of two thousand years_."

"Exactly. You have to remember the _tikvah_. Remember the hope. Because even though it may seem as though the world is ending, you have to remember that it isn't."

As soon as the words left his mouth, the sirens stopped. Both agents sat momentarily frozen, awestruck by the impeccable timing.

Doors began opening as agents filed in. Crawling out from under the desk, Tony stands and offers his hand and helps Ziva up as well. Wanting to offer her some sort of comfort but afraid a hug may be too obvious as the room begins to fill again, Tony grabs her hand and squeezes. She meets his eyes and smiles at him—though her eyes remain sad, he can tell that the smile is genuine.

"Where were you guys?" Abby's shrill voice reaches them from across the room. A mass of dark hair and black clothes flies towards them and she engulfs the two agents in a hug. "I thought something happened! I thought-"

"Abs, it was just a drill," Tony laughs as he pulls back.

She glances at the two of them, doing a double take as she sees Ziva's tear-stained cheeks. "So where were you two? Is everything okay?"

Ziva looks at Tony and gives him a small smile.

"No. But it will be."

***_ eretz Yisrael; _Hebrew; the land of Israel**

**** _shuk;_ marketplace in Israel**

**Reviews are much appreciated! Thanks for reading!**


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